


Reparations

by LadyoftheWoods



Series: Shifted [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dark Sides As Family (Sanders Sides), Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Sympathetic Dark Sides (Sanders Sides)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:14:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23675947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyoftheWoods/pseuds/LadyoftheWoods
Summary: Virgil meets with Thomas, Patton, and Logan to discuss what happened. Remus takes the opportunity to teach his brother a lesson.
Series: Shifted [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1704796
Comments: 9
Kudos: 322





	Reparations

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little follow up to Shifted, because I know everyone wanted Roman to learn a lesson. You asked for this, guys.

“You know you don’t have to go.” Deceit says, watching him chewing at his lip nervously. 

“I know. But I wanna. I’m ready to talk to them… talk about it.” He replies, startling at a knock on the door. 

“Clearly. Very much over it.” Dee mutters, and he shoots him a glare before opening the door to a smiling Patton. 

“Hey kiddo. You ready to go?” He nods, and Patton glances past him, to Dee. 

“You know you’re invited too, Deceit.” Dee nods minutely. 

“I know. Fortunately for you, I have other business to attend to.” With a flourish and a puff of black smoke, Dee vanishes. He rolls his eyes. 

“He’s such a drama queen." He mutters fondly, his smile slipping away as he takes Patton's proffered hand, apprehension filling him as they sink out, to the living room. 

Whatever conversation that had been happening ceases the moment they rise up, and he winces, already reaching to flip his hood up, to hide from their stares. 

“Anxiety,” he looks up, surprised at the obvious relief he can hear in Logan's voice. He's surprised to see that soft concern crinkling the corners of Logan's eyes as well, before his gaze darts away, “it is good to see you again.” Well. Anyone saying that is a surprise. 

“sure.” he replies, appreciating that Patton hasn’t released his hand. 

“How are you feeling? Ok, that's a stupid question,” Thomas half smiles at the raised eyebrow and judgmental look he stares him down with, but continues unfazed, “I get not great, but… I was worried, y'know? Even after Pat checked up on you.” 

“Why? It’s not like you’ve ever wanted me around, anyways.” He says it without any trace of bitterness, doesn't mean it as an insult, but the others wince anyways. He's just stating a fact. 

“Look, I appreciate the concern and all, but I don’t… I don’t want you to just care out of guilt or pity or… or whatever this is. I don’t need you to care.” He mumbles, pulling his hand away from Patton's to shove it deep in his pocket. 

“Anxiety, that’s not what this is. We want to get to know you. We want to work with you. I… I want you to feel comfortable, with us. To talk to us. Talk to me.” He's surprised at the almost pleading tone of Thomas's voice. He meets Thomas's eyes. “talk to me, please?” Thomas asks again, eyes soft and warm and kind and… and genuine, and he feels himself caving. 

He knows this is a terrible idea. Anything he says can be used against him, will reveal cracks in his armor, will tell them all they need to know to tear him apart, destroy him forever. 

“where’s princey?” he asks, voice low. 

“We decided not to include him in this gathering. We assumed you would not feel safe in his presence nor feel comfortable talking with us were he here. And, most likely, his commentary would be less than constructive, if not completely detrimental.” Logan answers carefully, simply. He lets out a long, low breath, staring hard at the floor. No one interrupts his silence, no one pushes him to say anything, and that, more than anything, is what makes up his mind. 

“ok.” With that, a weight eases off his chest and his shoulders slump as he collapses onto the couch. 

“Ok! Cool, great, yeah. So. Um… Logan?” Thomas asks, clearly surprised to have gotten his cooperation. A small wry smile flits across his lips. 

“How is your shoulder?” once again, he is surprised that that is the first question Logan asks. He shrugs in response. 

“Alright. Better. Mostly just a little sore, every once in a while, if I move it wrong.” 

“Good. I was assured it had been treated correctly. Still, I just wanted to make sure.” He nods, though he doesn’t understand why Logan's worried. 

“Anxiety, kiddo… why didn’t you change back after Roman attacked you?” 

Wow. Coming out hot, with the questions, from Patton of all people. He can feel his heart start to race, because with this answer they could do everything he'd feared, everything the nightmares had shown him. 

“I hate shape shifting. I hate it. It’s terrifying, it’s…” he trails off, hands fisting in his pockets, hunching in on himself as he tries to keep his breathing steady. 

“You were startled and afraid. You were too discombobulated to remember you could shift back?” Logan supplies, and hesitantly he shakes his head. He wishes it was that simple, wishes that was all. 

Roman isn’t here. Roman won’t know. They won’t let Roman hurt him. 

“Anxiety? What is it?” Thomas, cautious and concerned and he snaps. 

“I can’t, ok?! I can’t shape shift on my own! I can’t change back, I can’t sink out, and I don’t have any influence or power! Get it?!” he takes a deep breath, shaking, before folding his arms tight and continuing, “I couldn’t… i couldn’t change back. Roman… roman was going to take me and I would never have been able to get away and I would have been trapped forever, kept like some pet, until that’s all I was to you, and it would have left Thomas without anyone to protect him, and I can’t, couldn’t, do anything…” He's shaking, and he buries his face in his hands. “I hate small… all of it, but especially small…” he whispers, fear washing through him. 

“Anxiety. I am so sorry.” He feels the couch dip as Thomas sits down. He jumps at a hand on his shoulder, head jerking up to meet Thomas's gaze. 

“I would never allow that to happen to you. If I’d known I would never have changed you in the first place.” He nods smally, looking away. 

“We haven’t treated you fairly. I haven’t. I haven’t given you a chance, and that’s not fair. I want to do better, anxiety. It shows how terribly I’ve been doing that you are surprised I wouldn’t want you hurt.” He doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know if he can say anything, past the lump in his throat, the pressure behind his eyes. 

“I just want to help. That’s… that’s all I’ve ever tried to do. No one listened. So I got louder, so I’d be heard, and then I was, but everyone… all of you hated me. I thought I could do it, I thought it didn’t matter, didn’t hurt, I could take it, but it does and I don’t… I don’t want to do this anymore. I don't want to be here, be me, anymore.” He near whispers, hunching in tighter on himself, feeling the tears squeeze out from the corner of his eyes against his will at the sharp silence that follows his admission. 

“you don’t have to be alone. You don’t have to scream to be heard, anxiety. We are going to listen. We are going to hear your concerns and have a conversation about them, and address them if there is something Thomas needs to do differently. Does that sound fair?” Logan asks intensely, sitting down on his other side, carefully resting a hand on his leg. That itself spoke volumes, usually Logan was more averse to touch than even he himself was. 

“yeah… I… it does… i'll… i'll try.” 

“We will too, kiddo. Old habits can be hard to break. We won’t always be perfect, but you shouldn’t be afraid to tell us so. And we'll be understanding, too, if you stumble a little.” Patton adds, kneeling before him and meeting his eyes, taking both his hands. “we're here for ya, kiddo. I promise.” 

He breaks. The tears flow silently down his face, shaking him to his core. This is what he’d always wanted, what he thought he’d never have, to be listened to, to be wanted by Thomas, to not be hated by them all. 

Then Patton is hugging him, and as he buries his head against Patton's shoulder, he feels two other sets of arms pull him close, holding him tight, showing him what their words alone would never convince him of. He was wanted. 

………. 

He walks through the imagination aimlessly, merely walking to burn off the energy he feels growing, that he doesn’t know what to do with. 

He knows right now everyone else is at a meeting with Thomas about Anxiety, with Anxiety, and he huffs. 

Did he go too far? Maybe. Yes, he was willing to concede, grudgingly, that he had. But he’d had good intentions! Why didn’t the others see that? 

And now they were having a meeting, one he had been explicitly, politely, if firmly, been disinvited to, because he would scare Anxiety. That was rich, the emo nightmare was always scaring them, why not give him a taste of his own medicine? 

But… recalling the look on Anxiety's face as he clung to the bannister, his usual snarkyness dispelled, did send a shiver of guilt through his chest. 

“if you wanted me dead, you should have just asked. I’d have done it myself.” He winces, rubbing his arms. He’d said it so matter of factly, so… defeated. As if he’d contemplated doing exactly that many times. 

Of course, Deceit showed up, and you can’t trust a single word that snake says, but the fury in his eyes and the pain in his voice seemed so… genuine. 

But if Anxiety really felt that way, why not say something? Why keep trying to crush Thomas’s dreams, why keep fighting logic at every turn, why not accept Patton's olive branch of friendship? It doesn’t make any sense. Nothing about Anxiety makes sense and it drives him crazy. 

Besides, it’s not like he meant to hurt him. Throw him around a little, scare him, teach him a lesson, sure. He probably wouldn’t even have kept him all that long, just enough that he would stop popping up where he wasn’t wanted. 

He's on the ground. When did he get here? Why… the world is spinning, out of focus, and he’s seeing double. There’s a pounding in his head, ringing his ears. He groans, nearly sick from the vertigo, closing his eyes and trying to steady himself. A lightning bolt of pain explodes against the back of his skull and he's unconscious. 

“Remus, what are you doing?” he hears a voice hiss. 

“What does it look like I’m doing, double D?” A chipper voice, Remus. 

“Dragging your unconscious twin through the kitchen?” 

“Well if you knew the answer, why ask the question?” an aggravated sigh. 

“Because what are you dragging Roman through the goddamn kitchen for?” is the hissing response. 

“Because I need a quick favor from you, my favorite fiend!” He groans, trying to roll over, trying to push himself up, his muscles barely twitching in response. 

“He will not be happy about this, Remus.” He has missed whatever Remus said, but Deceit's hesitance makes his heart race. 

“Pleaaase Dee? Just a little bite?” He does not like that sentence. He struggles harder to move, to clear his fuzzy head. “Hurry, he's waking up!” Deceit sighs. 

“Fine. But I’m warning you, when this blows up, it’s on your head." Deceit relents, just as he manages to peel his eyes open. 

He yelps, forcing his limbs into motion, scrambling backwards at the sight of a king cobra, hood flared and fangs showing, looming over him. 

He flinches as the cobra strikes, letting out a soft whimper as fangs pierce his neck. Instantly, the world spins and his eyes drift shut, limbs heavy, weighing him down. His mind drifts, unfocused, as whatever venom takes effect, leaving him weak and helpless. He feels sharp nails on his chin. 

“Sleep well, sweet prince. You’re gonna need it. When you wake up, we’re going to have some fun!” he can sense the twisted smile on Remus's face as he throws his head back. He lolls limply against the floor, shuddering with the last of his awareness, resigned to his fate. 

……   
He's tired. Emotionally and physically, he's drained and tired but… but it's a good kind of tired. 

Despite the tears streaking his face, despite his puffy eyes and red nose and shaking hands, he is happy. 

He feels lighter than he ever has in his life, the usual pit of nauseous fear that sat in his stomach was gone, his shoulders uncurled, his breath coming easy and light. He's… smiling. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever smiled in front of the others, not a real smile. Not the one that actually lights up his face, that reaches his eyes, that spreads into a lopsided grin. Patton nearly exploded when he saw it, nearly lifting him off the ground with the strength of his hug. That in turn made him laugh, a full, strong, deep chested laugh that left him breathless and aching and grinning. Patton had squealed, and Logan was smiling himself as he readjusted his glasses, Patton's infectious joy bubbling over and filling the room. 

Now, his head is resting against Patton's chest, his eyes closed as he feels Patton petting his hair. Logan’s arm is wrapped around him, pressed close against him, occasionally running his thumb over his shoulder. 

He's never been this comfortable in his life. For once, the voice in his head telling him that everything will go wrong is silent. He is so blissed out and tired and happy. 

“Hey, kiddo?” Patton asks. 

“Uh hmm?” he replies, not bothering to open his eyes, not even chancing ruining this. 

“you were really brave today. I know it’s not easy sharing things about yourself with us. But you did anyway, even though it was scary. I just want you to know how much it means to me, that you did.” He smiles softly, nuzzling closer to Patton. 

“Truly, Anxiety. Thank you, for trusting us. It could not have been easy, given previous experiences.” 

“yeah, but… but I think it was worth it. I… feel better. Than like, I have, ever.” He mumbles into Patton's shirt. He feels Patton press a soft kiss to his head, warm and gentle. “I might fall asleep. ‘s that ok?” he asks, slurring a bit, sleep already tugging at his mind. It’s rare he gets a full night of rest, rarer to feel soothed and relaxed to this extent, especially recently, and his overworked body is trying to take full advantage. 

“It is more than acceptable, Anxiety. Pleasant dreams.” He feels Logan kiss his head as well, the action nearly sending him into more tears, because Logan is the most hesitant with physical affection, and he feels warmth bloom in his chest. 

“Virgil. Jus call ‘m Virgil, Lo.” He mumbles, drifting off into a deep, contented sleep. 

Logan is still for a long moment, staring at Virgil, frozen in place. Patton isn’t even sure if he's breathing. 

“Logan, kiddo, you okay?” he asks, which seems to snap Logan out of his stupor. Logan inhales deeply, eyes flicking up to meet Patton's. 

“did he… Patton, did he just say what I think he did?” Logan asks, looking more uncertain than Patton has ever seen him. 

“yeah. He did, Lo. He told me, too. After… well, after Roman.” Patton answers gently. 

“…why?” Patton melts at the soft confusion, the gentle awe that Logan is looking at Virgil with, his emotions not hidden behind his usually unreadable mask. 

“Because he trusts you. He trusts us.” Logan inhales sharply, nodding once, steadying himself. 

“What are we going to do about Roman? We cannot allow him to break this… fragile trust… that we have built.” Patton frowns. 

“We'll talk to him. Get through to him. For now, let’s just let him rest. Poor baby barely sleeps at all on his own.” Patton coos, smiling at Logan, who hesitantly offers a small smile back, holding the youngest side a little tighter as he watches Virgil sleep. 

….. 

He wakes slowly. His head is absolutely pounding, and he feels heavy and sluggish. He groans, rolling over and using an immense amount of effort to lift his eyelids. He manages, and pushes himself to his feel, bracing himself against the bars of the cage. 

Wait. Bars? Cage? What… ok. Breathe. Focus. What does be remember? 

Imagination. Definitely not pouting. Then… pain? Remus. His heart picks up its pace just a bit. Yes, he’s in Remus's room. Fine. He'll just… 

Well shit. He can’t sink out. He can't do anything. He can feel his abilities, see them, but when he tries to reach, they only stretch farther away. He growls in frustration, reaching harder with all his might. 

He yelps as the rebound of his reach sends his head pulsing again, stumbling back and clutching at his forehead. 

“Well, well, look who's awake! It’s my least favorite sibling!” He winces at Remus's high pitched trill. 

“I’m your only sibling.” He bites out. 

“Bzzzt Wrong!” Remus trills back, making a game show incorrect noise. “Anxiety is my best bro, and I hate hate hate when he gets hurt. Guess what, Roro? You hurt him.” Remus's voice darkens suddenly, and Roman finally looks up at that, instinctively trying to summon his sword, stumbling back and falling over as he looks up. And up. And up. 

Remus is huge. Or, more accurately, he is tiny. Remus has put him in some kind of hamster cage, and his neon green eyes are glaring at him through the bars. His heart is pounding now, but he refuses to show his fear. 

“Remus. Let. Me. Out.” He hisses, regretting it as a sharp toothed grin spreads across Remus's face, eyes gleaming. 

“Oh, now that's a fun idea, isn't it? How about this, hmm, I put you on the floor, and give you ten seconds to run?” He hates it, the fear in his throat, he knows he won’t get far like this, but it’s his only shot, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least try. 

“Fine.” He acquiesces, shivering as Remus's grin only grows and he claps his hands together, filled with glee. 

Despite himself, he squirms as Remus picks him up, dangling by the back of his shirt. His feet kick empty air. He screams as the hand lets go, and he's falling, tumbling towards the floor, plummeting to death- 

His air is cut off as he jerks to a stop, a mere inch from the ground, his shirt jerking back against his throat as his momentum is halted, his stomach doing flips as he tries not to hurl. He is dropped to the ground, legs folding under him as he gasps in gulps of air, Remus's cackling echoing through his ears. 

“Not funny, Remus.” He hisses, shakily getting to his feet, dusting himself off to hide the angry tears that are leaking from his eyes. 

“Wasn’t it, though? I mean your scream! It sounded like an eviscerated rat!” Remus wipes away tears of mirth from his eyes, tilting his head unnaturally far to the left, smile more eerie than ever. 

“Now run.” It’s a threat, loud and clear, and he doesn’t hesitate. He books it towards the door, diving under a shelf for cover, hoping Remus won’t be able to reach him down there. 

It’s dirty and dusty and he’s covered in grime in an instant. Has Remus ever swept down here!? 

“Zero! Ready or not, here I come!” he huddles back against the wall, pressing himself back as small as possible, breath rapid and shallow as he tries to make as little noise as possible. He swears his heart is pounding so hard they can hear it from the commons. 

Sink out, sink out, sink out, sink out! 

He yelps, something sticky and a bit slimy wrapping around his torso. He struggles as it retracts, taking him with it. He flails, trying to dig his fingers into the floor, feeling his nails tear as they are dragged across the hardwood. 

He yelps as he's tossed in the air, before being caught again, tentacles whipping past him and flipping him upside down, juggling him, until he's nauseous and doesn’t know which way is even up or down anymore. 

After what feels like forever, he comes to a jerky stop, feeling like his limbs are being torn off. A tentacle has each of his arms and each of his legs, and he realizes he's being squeezed by an octopus, a hazardous neon in color. He lets out a cry as his limbs are pulled harder, feeling like they may pop out of his sockets at any moment, his nerves and tendons burning as his eyes water. 

“stop. Please, please, stop.” His voice is pleading, begging, and he hates it, but he can’t get past the fear in his chest, because Remus is anything but predictable and he has no clue how long this will go on. 

“Did you stop? When Anxiety was screaming, pleading, crying. Well? Did you?” Remus demands, his tentacle wrapping tight around his body, squeezing him tight enough he feels his ribs creak. 

“No! I didn’t… I didn’t… I’m sorry…” he cries out, barely able to get a breath in his lungs. Tears are streaming down his face now, fear, fear, fear, pounding in his throat. 

“Good for you. I’m not.” Remus hisses. He's lifted higher, and when he looks down, he screams, fighting again, struggling, because Remus has opened his clacking, cavernous beak, and he is slowly being lowered towards that gnashing maw, and he can’t escape, can’t get away, he is tucking his legs up, small as possible, that bottomless pit all he can see, and gods, he’s doomed-" 

“REMUS! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!” the voice is loud, startling, tempest tongue making it echo even louder through the room. 

“Aw, come on, I wasn’t actually gonna eat ‘em-" Remus whines. 

“REMUS!” Anxiety screeches again, voice a bit higher, a bit more panicked. 

“Fiiine. Take him.” He’s too petrified to even scream as he's thrown through the air. He lands harshly, jostling every inch of his bruised and battered body. He curls up as he feels a shadow over him, curling tight, tears leaking from his eyes. 

Now he's in for it. He's at the mercy of Anxiety, who hates him, who can tear him down so easily with just the right words, and he shakes. 

“Princey?” He feels Anxiety's hands gently cupping around him as he's lifted higher. He cracks his eyes open to see Anxiety peering at him, worry and concern filling his dark eyes, without a hint of malice. Anxiety lets out a relieved breath at that, eyes shifting, turning hard as he eyes Remus. 

“Undo it. Whatever you did.” 

“Can't! That was Dee's work. Should wear off in another hour.” Remus says sulkily. Anxiety frowns, attention shifting back to him. 

“Ok. Um. So. I'm gonna take you back to your room, ok? The effects of the venom'll wear off faster there. You should be able to change yourself back, then. Is… is that ok?” He's surprised at the care in Anxiety's voice, how he's being handled so gently, spoken to so softly. He doesn’t get it. He deserves this. He earned this. Anxiety should be happy, seeing him small and helpless. 

He just nods, realizing Anxiety is still waiting for a reply, and he feels the emo let out a long breath. 

“ok. Imma cover you with my other hand, so you don’t accidentally fall, ok? As soon as we get there, I'll set you down.” He nods again, curling up and closing his eyes. He’s too exhausted to care. 

“I’ll be having words with you and Dee later.” Anxiety hisses at Remus, and then they've sunk out. 

…..

“Have a good time?” Deceit asks as he enters through the door, into the kitchen. He pushes his hair back, smiling up at Dee through his bangs. 

“actually… yeah. Yeah, I did.” He replies, glancing at Deceit sitting at the table, his book set aside as he looks him over carefully. 

“What? Why're you looking at me like that?” 

“Nothing. You just… look happy, Shadow. Happier than you’ve been in a long time.” Virgil squints, biting his lip. 

“What aren’t you telling me?” he asks. 

“It’s not my fault-" 

“well that's reassuring.” Deceit continues unphased. 

“but you should definitely check on Remus. He has a… surprise… for you.” His eyes widen and he takes off down the hall, slamming Remus's door open just in time to see him lowering a tiny Roman into his beak. 

“REMUS! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING!?” He screeches, panic making his heart rate skyrocket, because Roman is so small, he did not expect this to be his “surprise”, what the fuck, and holy shit, how long has Remus been toying with him?! 

“Aw, come on. I wasn’t actually gonna eat ‘em.” Remus protests, and he blanches. 

“REMUS!” He screeches, because he hadn’t even had the time to process that’s what Remus had been threatening to do to his miniscule twin. 

“Fiiine, take him.” He lunges as Remus carelessly chucks him through the air, barely managing to catch Roman in the palm of his hand. He sees the momentary relief on Roman fade as he curls into a tight ball, eyes squeezed shut as tears track down the tiny side’s face. He looks broken and terrified, and he can feel Roman’s tremors against his hand. Oh god, was he hurt? Was he dying? Had his landing been too hard and his bones had broken? 

“Princey?” He asks softly, trying not to be too loud, knowing how big and loud and scary everything in existence must seem right now. Roman’s eyes peek open and meet his for a moment, showing nothing but defeat and a muted terror that makes him inhale sharply. 

“Undo it. Whatever you did.” He mentally curses as Remus tells him Dee was in on this, carefully explaining every movement he is going to make to Roman before sinking out, promising to come back for Remus and Dee later. 

They appear directly in Roman’s grand room. A four poster bed is against one wall, red velvet drapes drawn back, a desk is against large windows looking out onto a peaceful forest scene, ideas and posters and paintings and drawings hung all around the room, murals painted on every surface of knights slaying dragons, rescuing princes from castles, majestic gryphons and stunning unicorns. He’s never actually been in here, before, and it takes his breath away. 

He draws, doodles, but nothing he’s ever made compares to this in pure beauty. He lets out a low whistle, looking up at the glass domed ceiling, afternoon sun streaming through colored stained glass, a rainbow dancing across the floor. 

“this is... this is amazing, Roman.” That doesn’t even begin to cover it, but he’s too awestruck by it all to come up with anything better. 

“... you don’t have to make fun of it.” His brow furrows at the quiet reply, looking down at the prince sitting on his palm, staring absently off into the distance. 

“I’m not? Um. Where should I put you?” Roman shrugs, swiping at the tear tracks down his cheeks. 

“The bed, I guess. I’ll just curl up on one of the pillows, till this wears off.” He cups a hand around Roman to brace him, quickly pulling it away as Roman flinches. 

“Sorry. Didn’t think. I won’t do that, if you want. I just don’t want you to fall.” Roman doesn’t reply, and he doesn’t move his hand back, instead walking even slower and more carefully across the carpet to the bed. He gently lowers his hand, allowing Roman to climb off onto the silkiness of one of his pillows. Roman pulls the corner of the pillow case over to use as a blanket, curling up under it, eyes closed. He lets out a sigh of relief, running his hand through his hair as he makes to leave. 

“wait.” He turns back to Roman, whose eyes are hesitant, shame staining his cheeks red as he breaks eye contact. “I... it’s dumb.” Roman rolls over, and Virgil stops, stepping closer to the bed. 

“It’s not dumb, Roman. What is it?” Roman seems to have more courage, now that he isn’t looking at him. 

“will you stay with me? Just... just until I can change back. You don’t have to, it’s fine.” Roman mumbles into the pillow, and he chooses to ignore the sniffling emanating from the prince. 

“yeah. No problem, Princey.” He pulls over a chair from the desk, settling into it, slipping on his headphones, keeping the volume low enough he can hear Roman if he speaks, turning on some soothing ambient sounds and closing his eyes, practicing his breathing exercises and meditation, trying to clear his mind of the utter hopeless pain on Roman’s face. 

He doesn’t know when he dozed off. He wakes slowly, stretching his arms above his head, slipping his headphones off as he settles them around his shoulders, fishing his phone out and turning off the audio playing ocean noises. He jumps at the small noise of blankets shifting, turning his head to see Roman, full sized once more, looking at him closely. 

“Princey?” He asks, carefully, noting how Roman’s knees are pulled to his chest, his chin tucked against them, everything about him stiff and stressed and tense. 

“why’d you help me? Why’d you… why’d you care?” Roman’s voice is shattered to pieces, rough and raw, and he winces. 

“Because it wasn’t right. I… I get that they were mad at you. They’re always protective of me, and I should have seen something like this coming, knowing the two of them, but toying with someone like that? Isn’t right. It wasn’t when you did it to me, and it wasn’t when Remus did it to you, and it doesn’t matter how much I like or don’t like you, I wasn’t going to just let that continue.” His voice is firm and when he looks over, he sees silent tears running down Roman’s face. He frowns, and shifts onto the bed, kneeling in front of Roman. 

“what is it?” he asks gently. Roman buries his head in his arms. 

“I was so terrible to you. I scared you out of your mind. I hurt you, Anxiety, like, physically hurt you, and I wasn’t even sorry about it! I deserve this, deserve what Remus did, deserve what Deceit did, I’d deserve it if you joined in the fun right now and decided to throw me around a little! Hell, I’d let you, after everything I did, I owe you that much.” He gaped at Roman’s outburst, not even knowing how to begin processing everything he’d just said, except for one thing. 

“No. Roman, no.” Impulsively, he reaches for Roman’s hands, holding them firmly in his, Roman’s shocked eyes shooting up to meet his serious dark ones. “You hurt me. I won’t lie, I won’t make you feel better about it, it’s just a fact. You hurt me. I couldn’t sleep, I had nightmares for a week, Dee and Remus couldn’t leave me alone for more than a few minutes or I would start spiraling.” He takes a deep breath, the memories of fear still fresh. “But this isn’t how things get better. Taking it out on each other, going back and forth terrorizing each other, that isn’t how we fix things. I should know, I’ve been trying to scare you into listening to me for years, and it hasn’t worked, it just escalated things to the point where they became physical. What they did was out of line. Just like what you did was out of line. That doesn’t make either of those things right. Ok?” Roman looks hesitant, but he lets out a long breath, a small smile breaking through the misery on his face. 

“ok. I… I am sorry. I’m so… stupid, sometimes.” He lets out a small snort. 

“yeah. But so am I. We’re both too stubborn for own good. I think that’s why we’re always trying to strangle each other.” He answers, scooting to sit next to Roman, back resting against the wall. That gets a tired chuckle out of him, which sounds like music to his ears.

“… thank you. For not letting Remus eat me.” He shrugs. 

“I don’t think he would’ve actually ate you, if that makes you feel better. And they are so in for it later.” A long silence, but a comfortable one, filled with quiet thoughts. 

“I think Deceit bit me.” The silence is shattered by his startled laughter, the change of topic so sudden it’s hilarious, and soon he is doubled over laughing, laughing harder at Roman’s confusion, until he starts laughing too. When they finally get ahold of their giggles, can look at each other without setting off a new round of hysterics, they’re both smiling, both lighter. 

“Anxiety… can we start over?” He rolls his eyes at the quiet question, but it’s filled with honest sincerity, warmth and a soft hope. And he finds he’d like that too, to start fresh, to wipe everything way, all the words thrown back and forth, all the insults tossed both ways, Roman may have been the one to cross the line, but they’d both been toeing it for years. 

“Yeah.” He holds out his hand for a handshake, meeting Roman’s eyes with a bit of fear, a bit of hope, a bit of hesitance, but his voice is filled with confidence as Roman takes his proffered hand. “I’m Virgil Anxiety Sanders. Nice to meet you.”


End file.
